Face of the Monster
by vr2lbast
Summary: Weiss Side B. Ken and Kurumi. Mihirogi doesn't want Kurumi involved with Kryptonbrand's nighttime duties, but the violence is getting harder to hide and Ken wonders if Kurumi will find out what kind of monster he really is...


**Face of the Monster**

"He's headed your way, Ken."

"Thanks, Yuki."

Ken tensed as the sound of footsteps echoed from the alley where mottled shadows shifted in the flickering glow of the street lamp behind him. Crouched low, just another lump of trash against the wall, he watched as one of shadows pulled away from the rest, resolving itself into the shape of a man. When it drew close enough, Ken jumped in front of it and whirled it up against the wall where the flickering light illuminated a face he'd last seen in Mihirogi's files.

Ken didn't really understand what this man had done. His dirty games were played in offices; computers and paperwork were his tools. Yuki said he was a genius of law and finances. Aya, who knew Ken well, said he had engineered the deal that built a new processing plant – for the jobs, everyone was told – at the expense of the local water supply. Conflicts with the city, the law, and environmentalists had melted away in his presence. The companies who benefited had done very well, but of the residents in the area, hundreds had fallen ill, dozens of them would have life-long medical problems, and there had been at least three deaths, all of them children under the age of six.

He was now planning a factory on the other end of town.

The man didn't look like a genius. He didn't look like much of anything, trembling as he was against the cold brick. Ken didn't wonder why such a seemingly prominent man would be wandering around this part of town on his own at night – he already knew about Yuki's detour, Michel and Free's roadblock, and the guards who had fallen before Aya and Chloe with barely a struggle. All Ken wondered was how someone so frightened and frail could be the monster they were sent to kill. Monsters, Ken felt, should go down fighting. He would.

"You Benjamin Slade?" Ken said, struggling to get his tongue around the unfamiliar syllables. The man was so unimpressive that Ken needed to make sure.

The man's eyes widened in fear for a fraction of a second and then narrowed. He pursed his lips in distaste.

"I most certainly am not," he lied and Ken couldn't help feeling some admiration for the man's nerve. "Some madmen simply started chasing me. If you're one of them, I demand you let me go and find the real man you're after."

Ken grinned. This was more like it: a ballsy last stand with the weapons at hand, even if those weapons were words.

"Nice try," he told the target and buried his bugnuks to the hilt in the man's belly.

Abdominal wounds were terrible and Ken made it hurt for just a little while, on behalf of all the people who were hurting still, and then tore the man's throat out. Once Ken might not have thought the man was worthy of this mercy, but he'd presented a stiff upper lip in the end and Ken was no longer the killer he used to be.

He still smelled like it though; blood and shit were stock in trade for those who fought as close as he did. Not that he had time to worry about it when the others were waiting for him at the rendezvous point. In and out was Kryptonbrand's unofficial motto.

"Ew, you smell!" Michel informed him when he reached the rest of his team. Aside from Aya, who'd been splashed a little when he'd run through the guard, none of them seemed to have suffered any major crises of laundry.

'Thanks," Ken said. "I hadn't noticed."

"At least we can safely assume that the target has been taken care of," Chloe smirked.

"And then some," Ken agreed. "Be glad you're not part of the clean-up crew."

It was enough, more than enough, for one night and Ken was glad when they got home. All he wanted was a shower, some clean clothes, and a chance to relax. He should have known that things wouldn't be quite so easy.

"What do you mean Kurumi's sick?" Michel exclaimed.

Ken was barely in the door when Michel shouted his surprise, but he quickly kicked off his boots and joined the others in time to hear Mihirogi's reply.

"It's nothing serious, Michel. You know she is _Human Iterleuken III _ and that the make-up of her blood weakens her; she's always been frail. She'll recover, as she has many times before, but please be considerate and keep the noise low tonight."

There was a general murmur of assent before Michel's piping voice broke through once more.

"Can we visit her?" he asked.

"If she's awake and wants to see you," Mihirogi replied. "One at a time, please. We don't want to tire her out. Aya, if you've gathered everyone's information, I would like you to report on the mission tonight. And you," she added, eying Ken critically, "get cleaned up. You're a mess."

"Thanks," Ken said. "I hadn't noticed."

He wondered if he should make that his personal mantra.

He took the time to clean off his boots, scrubbing even the tread to remove all traces of blood. He did the same with his vest, relieved that it had been specially treated to repel dirt and grime of all kinds. By the time he climbed the stairs, the hallway was empty and there was only silence behind the closed bedroom doors.

A near silence; two hushed voices drifted into the hallway from the direction of Kurumi's bedroom. Ken cast a casual glance toward them as he strode on past and was somewhat surprised to find Yuki perched on the edge of Kurumi's bed, asking her about her day and how she was feeling while Kurumi gave demure answers and assured him she was fine. Ken thought she looked his way as he walked past – there was no reason why she shouldn't when something flitted by her bedroom door – but he didn't stop to say hello or even acknowledge her glance. He was, quite literally, a bloody mess and exposing her to the sight was likely to bring down the wrath of Mihirogi, not that Ken could blame her.

A hot shower could work miracles, however, and by the time Ken stepped out of the steamy bathroom, he was feeling almost human. At the very least, the stink was gone and if he still felt blood in his hair, he could be reasonably certain that it was just his imagination. It occurred to him that a drink wouldn't be amiss and would probably help him sleep. He was feeling oddly restless.

As he made his way back toward the stairs, he passed Kurumi's room once again. The door was open, which was odd, although the light was off. Perhaps Yuki had forgotten to close it. Or perhaps Kurumi had asked that it be left open to let air circulate more freely. Ken knew that sometimes helped him when he was feeling sick.

It didn't matter one way or the other, Ken decided, but, as he was passing by, a soft voice called his name: "Ken?"

Kurumi's bedside lamp switched on and she sat up in bed. She was wearing two-piece pajamas, modest by any definition, but she was their ward and seeing her in bed made Ken feel self-conscious and just a little dirty, so he hung back near the door and leaned against the jamb, hands deep in his pockets.

"Hey," he said. "How're you doing?"

"Fine," Kurumi replied. She looked flushed and sweaty, but not particularly ill. "It's only a fever. I used to get really sick when I was little, but now I mostly get fevers. Every so often the drug in my blood mutates the wrong way and my body tries to reject it, like an infection. It's not very serious. It will mutate again soon and become stable, you'll see."

She said it all so casually it made Ken feel humble and small. The night's mission had bothered him a little, making him restless and irritable, but at least his blood didn't mutate on a regular basis.

"Does it do that a lot?" he said

"I don't know," Kurumi told him. "I only feel sick when it goes wrong. The lab tells me that this is how my parents were refining it, through mutation." She twisted the blanket in her fingers. "But never mind about that now. Come and sit down for a minute. Everyone's so careful about not tiring me out and letting me rest that they haven't asked if I could even sleep. It's quiet and lonely at night. Unless, of course, you're tired and on your way to bed."

"Um…"

Ken sought the words to politely refuse – she had given him the perfect excuse, after all – but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Kurumi looked wide-eyed and pale against her pillow and it occurred to Ken that it must be a terrible thing to have one's own blood rebel. Kurumi spoke of it casually, but she was terrified.

"Actually, I was just getting a drink," Ken said. "I can't sleep either. You want me to get you something? I could bring it back up here and we could talk for a while."

Kurumi's smile was one of pure relief. "Thank you," she said. "I'd like that. I'll have orange juice, if I may."

"No problem," Ken said, smiling. Orange juice was something he could handle.

"With a little vodka," he heard as he was turning to leave. Glancing back in surprise, he caught Kurumi's mischievous smile.

"Chloe made that for me once," she said. "It helped me sleep really well. But only just a little, please. A capful. And don't tell Nana."

"Don't worry, I want to live," Ken assured her, and then he made his way down to the kitchen.

When he returned a short while later, it was with two crystal glasses. One held whiskey, on the rocks, and that that was his. The other held orange juice…and a very little bit of vodka.

"Chicken," Kurumi said when she tasted it. "The alcohol is barely there. But that's all right. It was very nice of you to make it. Why did you use a crystal glass? I didn't even know we had any."

"I think Chloe bought them," Ken said, sitting on the edge of her bed. "A friend of mine always said alcohol tastes better when it's drunk from crystal."

It was one of Yohji's favourite sayings. Ken wondered if he still thought that way, he and his pretty new wife.

"It does taste very good," Kurumi admitted. "I'll have to tell Chloe next time. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Ken said, somewhat relieved. He wasn't sure what he should talk about and questions would make things much easier.

"Why do you always hide from me?"

"What do you mean?" Ken said, startled. "I don't understand."

"Oh, not every day," Kurumi said, sipping her juice. "But days like today, right after… Right after work. You always race by me like there's something terrible I can't see."

"Well, it's a messy kind of work," Ken said and scratched the back of his neck. "I mean…"

"I know what it is," Kurumi said. "I watched you once. Well, I watched Aya and Chloe."

"Yeah," Ken said. He remembered the day that Kryptonbrand had killed her parents, the day she had been forced to choose between life with the team or death. "Mihirogi asked us not to get you involved with the jobs, especially if we're a mess. And I… I have the worst weapon for mess."

"Ah," Kurumi said. "It's kind of creepy though, you know. I see you rush by out of the corner of my eye all…all covered in blood and I can't tell if…if any of it's yours. I don't mean you should parade around," she quickly added, and laughed nervously. "It's just that, having it be a big secret is scary, as if you're a different person entirely. Look at you now, all nice and clean. You smell like soap and look tired, like you just walked in from a very long run, but it all looks sort of off because it isn't true."

"Kurumi…" Ken said and trailed off. He could think of nothing more to say.

Something must have shown on his face, however, because Kurumi smiled gently and bowed her head. "Never mind," she said. "It's hard for me to explain and it probably isn't very easy for you to talk about either. I never did thank you for the night my parents died. I mean, for not being the one to do it. It was horrible to watch when it was Aya and Chloe, but they were still strangers in a way. I spent the day with you and I could recognize you through your mask. It would have been very hard if you had been the one to kill them." She looked sheepish. "That sounds horrible, I know."

"That's okay, I think I get it," Ken said. It wasn't quite the same situation, but he remembered Kaze. Kaze was his best friend once and Ken had killed him. Given him every opportunity to prove himself innocent, of course, but killed him in the end. And yet, for all the difficulty it had caused him, for all the sleepless nights, it would have been so much worse to watch one of the others do it.

"Still," he added. "Maybe we should talk about something nicer this late at night. You're never going to get to sleep this way."

Kurumi laughed. "I'm not scared, but maybe you're right. How about your friend? The one who told you about crystal glasses? Would you like to talk about him? I've been hogging the conversation."

Yohji was a painful subject as well, but there had been good times between missions, and Ken entertained Kurumi with stories from their years together in Weiss until she dozed off, content. 

* * *

Ken collected the glasses and brought them back to the kitchen, wondering vaguely whether he would be able to sleep half so well. 

The next few days were hectic in the shop as well as in the field. Kryptonbrand's new targets – international businessmen and embezzlers who could not be touched by the local authorities – were giving them an unusual amount of trouble. Kurumi recovered quickly, as she had promised, and helped to bandage wounds and heal hurts after the fighting and clean-up were over. They came to her freshly showered, with make-shift bandages, and she said nothing about it, but when she smiled her encouragement at Ken, he could see concern and just a hint of fear in her eyes and he wondered if it wouldn't be better to let her witness the full effect of their violence so that she could understand what she was fighting with her gauze and disinfectant.

However, Mihirogi wanted her involved as little as possible in Kryptonbrand's missions. First aid was a useful skill at any time and so she allowed Kurumi to minister to them afterwards, but she was left at home and under surveillance while their missions were in progress with a driver ready to sweep her away to the castle should the fight take a turn for the worst or be in any way connected to her adoptive parents and their experiments with _Human Interleuken III_.

"I'm back at the lab tomorrow," she told Ken as she cleaned a rather nasty scrape he had received upon close contact with the pavement. As she did so she frowned at the other scars on his arm, deep veins of shiny, waxen flesh that spoke of wounds she would never see or understand.

"Two weeks already?" Ken said. Kurumi pulled half a month at the flower shop and spent half in a laboratory having her blood examined her own good, the good of England, and that of all humanity. But mostly for England. "You'll probably be glad to get away from us."

He winced as Kurumi spilled a little more disinfectant into the scrape than was strictly necessary. "I hate it there," she told him. "Tell me how you'd like getting pricked and prodded with needles every day. It's like being in a hospital, but, instead of trying to make you better, everyone is treating you like a bug under glass…when they aren't treating you like a rat. They give me tasks to do like I'm stupid and then wonder if this drug is making me brighter when I succeed instead of just thinking that I might be smart. Or they give me ridiculous physical tests and wonder if the drug is rotting my body when I can't do them instead of just wondering if I'm not very athletic. The food's all right though," she allowed.

"I was just…sorta joking. Sorry," Ken said weakly. "Aya's always telling me that I'm not very sensitive."

Kurumi smiled. "Imagine Aya-san saying something like that."

"I know!" Ken agreed. "Although he's right. He can be kind of cold, but at least he knows how to keep quiet or show some tact. I just blurt everything out."

"That's okay," Kurumi said. "It just means you're very open and honest…when you're allowed to be." She taped a light dressing over the scrape and rolled down Ken's sleeve. "All better."

"Thanks," Ken said. It wasn't the worse injury he had ever received, but it did make a difference to have someone caring for him. "Do they really make you do all those things at the lab?"

Kurumi nodded. "It's not so bad, really. I found out I'm a fast runner. My time was very good. I just can't keep it up for very long because I don't have much stamina. Oh, and my grip strength is good too, or so I'm told. And I seem to be good at chemistry. Maybe I'll go into pharmaceuticals and show them how full of bullshit they are. If I'm smart, it's because I'm smart and that's all."

Ken laughed. "You do that. From the sounds of it, it's no more than they deserve."

Kurumi smiled, but her eyes were wistful and sad. It occurred to Ken that she might never work in pharmaceuticals or anywhere else. The price of her life was to be under observation and her guardians might not look kindly upon a desire to finish school or make something of herself outside of the labs. She might never get to marry or have children. She might not even be allowed to live on her own, despite her promise to return to the lab for half of every month.

"Hey, you want to go out for ice cream?" Ken said when the silence was in danger of becoming too heavy. "It's not too late. We could ask the others too although probably only Yuki and Michel will be interested." Kurumi looked uncertain. "It's better than sitting around worrying about tomorrow," he added.

"All right," Kurumi said, her smile warming.

In the end, everyone joined them although neither Aya nor Chloe stayed for long. The effect was that of a mini going-away party that improved Kurumi's mood considerably. Ken thought he understood the feeling; you could deal with anything, as long as you had friends. 

* * *

The call came late in the day, just in time for the flower shop's afternoon rush. It came on Aya's cell phone and he disappeared into the back while the rest of Kryptonbrand scrambled to keep up with a demand that was less for flowers and more for their personal attention. He returned moments later with a rolled up piece of heavy paper and brandished it like a megaphone. 

"May I have your attention, please," he proclaimed, stepping up on a ladder to get his head above the crowd. "Due to a family emergency, the Kitten's House will be closing early. Please bring all essential purchases to the front immediately where Chloe will be happy to ring them up."

Ken didn't question the announcement, but, as the staff member closest to the front of the shop, immediately flipped the sign to 'closed' and locked the door. He let customers out as they finished their business, watching Aya give instructions to Free, Michel, and Yuki. Finally he reached the front of the store and leaned in close to Ken so that the customers wouldn't hear him.

"Kurumi's been taken. Mihirogi will call with further instructions. Yuki will track her from the back shop. Go with Free and Michel to set up a diversion. Chloe and I will join you later."

Seized by a mix of emotions, Ken put himself on autopilot and didn't argue with the instructions although he had many questions. Why Free and Michel? Why weren't Aya and Chloe on the front lines as usual? Certainly Yuki was needed to pin-point the tracers that KR had ordered be secreted into Kurumi's possessions, but why wasn't he, Ken, being left behind? He was nothing special.

But he had a motorcycle again, and a motorcycle went anywhere.

If Aya had thought of this in the time it had taken him to get off the phone, then Ken could safely assume he had a plan for the rest of them. He vanished into the back room of the shop, acquired his vest, mask, and weapon – no time to change his clothing completely – and had already fired up his bike when his cell phone rang.

"Talk to me, Nana," he said, yanking the mask down around his neck. "What's happening?"

"Kurumi Shinjyou has been snatched from the laboratory charged with monitoring her condition. It appears to be an inside job," Mihirogi told him. "The information is coming in from Yuki's relay now. You'll be receiving the coordinates shortly. Yuki, Free and Michel will be trying to divert the vehicle's course into a side street to limit witnesses. Stop the captors by _any_ means necessary. If you can't, slow them down. Aya and Chloe will be waiting further on."

Mihirogi disconnected and Ken put on his helmet. It was fitted with a wireless device that projected a display on the left-hand side of his visor. He was already on the road when a map appeared out of the corner of his left eye, Kurumi's present location shown as a red dot along with the name of the nearest intersection in oversized type. The dot did not move, but the map refreshed periodically and Ken changed direction toward the North-East.

He wondered briefly how Free and Michel were going to keep up with a get-away vehicle, but remembered that Free was exceptionally strong and fast, even with Michel in tow. Besides which, they didn't have to catch up to it so much as cut ahead of it. The car would be traveling at a moderate speed to avoid detection and Yuki was surely doing terrible things to the streetlights with the codes that one of KR's connections had provided. A car was a great way to go a long way in a short time, but only if the roads were clear. If they could slow it down and box it in, they had a chance.

The display wouldn't tell him the locations of Free and Michel or even what kind of tricks Yuki was up to, but Ken could see the progress of the getaway car slow as it made detours and hit dead ends, turned back and encountered yet another diversion. It seemed to escape Yuki's traps momentarily by turning off onto a small street that cut around in a great half-circle and returned to the main road. It was a longer route, but one that Ken felt certain was free of streetlights or other means of inconveniencing traffic. Fortunately, he was only two blocks over, and well ahead of the vehicle.

Ken made a tight right turn and flew down the street to the horror of vehicles and pedestrians alike. He swerved left after two blocks, narrowly missing a delivery van, and tore down the tiny street, secure in the knowledge that Kurumi's kidnappers were heading right for him.

He was less secure in the knowledge that they would stop.

He parked his bike across the road, swearing that he'd make KR pay if anything happened to it, and then he swung off the seat and fumbled in the saddlebag for a handful of caltrops. He ran down the street until he heard an approaching vehicle, flung the caltrops down the road, and pulled on his bugnuks as the car came around the curve. The tires blew when the vehicle hit the spikes and it spun out of the control, slamming broadside into a street lamp.

Ken had gambled that Kurumi would be held prisoner away from the doors and breathed a sigh of relief when it paid off. The driver stumbled from the damaged vehicle while his associate dragged Kurumi from the back. A third form slumped over as she was pulled out, either unconscious or dead. They ran for an open alleyway, or at least they tried. Kurumi fought them every step of the way.

_ Good girl_, Ken thought although he wanted them to reach the narrow space between the buildings. The area was industrial and the street lined with blank-faced businesses, but it was still too open for the job he had to do. He waited until they disappeared into the mouth of the alley before giving chase.

The narrow passage was dark and much more to Ken's liking. He had very little time before the authorities arrived to investigate the accident, so he wasted none of it with discretion. He attacked the man shoving Kurumi from behind, flinging him up against the wall. With practised aim, he punched his bugnuks between the man's ribs, puncturing his heart. The pulse of the dying muscle resonated through the blades and he grinned when he felt it. It was like meeting an old friend.

But there was no time to linger, no time for enjoyment. Adrenaline pumping, Ken rounded on the other man, who was attempting to drag Kurumi away. She brought her heel down hard against his knee and he staggered, giving her a moment to twist out his grasp and sprint back up the alley. It wouldn't have been enough if she had been on her own – fast as she was, she herself admitted that she had little stamina – but she was not alone. She flew past Ken as he flew at her captor and rammed the blades of the bugnuks into his throat.

For a brief moment, instinct took hold and the man struggled, tearing the wounds even wider, letting the blood gush out, but it was only a moment and the light in his eyes dimmed as he slumped to the floor of the alley.

Ken grinned down at the man, satisfied with his work, high on adrenaline and the memory of fading heartbeats, when harsh breathing from behind him drew his attention. He turned to face Kurumi, still aglow with triumph, but his face fell when he saw the terror in her eyes.

Instinct faded and he realized what kind of sight he must present. Wild-eyed and covered with gore, the bodies of her captors dead at his feet, he must have been the very image of the bogeyman. He'd done it to save her, but what did that matter? Police saved people every day, bringing them to jail alive. Mihirogi had ordered him to stop the men by any means necessary, but had it been necessary to use these means?

"Kurumi," he said, reaching out. But his hands were slick with blood and he let them drop uselessly at his side. "Kurumi, I…"

Kurumi's expression softened, passing briefly through pity before settling into something neutral, but gentle.

"It…it must be terrible," she said, still breathless from her fear as well as her short sprint.

Ken paused, mouth open on the verge of speech. If she was going to know this much, he decided, she might as well know it all.

"Actually, it feels really good," he said, hanging his head in shame. "I'm here because I can't give it up. I'm sorry."

There was a moment of breathless tension, and then she barreled into him and wrapped her arms around his chest. "You poor thing," she whispered to his shoulder. "Thank you."

Bewildered, Ken didn't know what else to say. The impulse was to stroke her hair, but he resisted it, afraid he would cover it in gore.

"Thank _you_," he said at last, and then the sound of a car pulling up to the mouth of the alley saved him from further conversation. In the distance, he could hear sirens.

"Kurumi, hurry," Mihirogi said, stepping out of the back seat of the vehicle and holding the door open for her charge. She glared at Ken as Kurumi pulled away, smeared with blood, but hardly seeming to mind. "Get out of here. The authorities will be here soon." The tone of her voice suggested that a private word once he returned would not be amiss.

Ken returned to his bike, pausing only long enough to reverse his vest, hiding most of the blood. It would do to return home, as long as kept to the back streets and wasn't stopped along the way. It was tricky and a mild punishment, but he didn't fear Mihirogi's wrath today. What he had done had been done to save Kurumi, as per his mission. There wasn't much that she could say about it. All that mattered to him now was that someone had looked into the face of the monster and hadn't been repulsed. 

* * *

Freshly showered, Ken lounged on his bed, a temporary exile, and thumbed through a sports magazine. Mihirogi had said nothing, but Ken could tell that she was upset – whether about finding Kurumi in the thick of things or realizing that it could not be avoided, he would never know – and he thought it best to avoid her for the good of both their sanity. Most of the others, wanting to stay in Mihirogi's good graces, were avoiding him for the night. Thus he was surprised to hear a timid knock on the door. 

"Yeah?" he called. "Come in."

The door opened a crack and Kurumi peered around the edge. Once she was satisfied that Ken was not in a state of undress, she shouldered it open the rest of the way. In her hands were two crystal glasses: one with whiskey and ice and one with orange juice.

_ And a little bit of vodka_, Ken thought. He smiled. "What's this? Presents for me?"

"I thought you might need a little help sleeping tonight," Kurumi said, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"You probably shouldn't be in here. Nana will have your head," Ken said. "Or mine. Probably mine."

Kurumi laughed. "Nana wants me to stay here until the security issues at the lab are sorted out. It's bad enough being trapped in one house, I won't let her tell me what rooms I can use as well."

"Good for you," Ken said, taking the drink. He swallowed a mouthful and let its warmth fill him.

"Does it always feel good?" Kurumi asked, sipping primly at her juice.

For a moment, Ken didn't understand, but the memory of the alleyway came flooding back along with the pulse of blood.

"Most of the time," Ken said, looking away. "Sometimes, if I don't really understand the crime, it feels awkward, but most of time it feels good."

"Did you always feel like that?"

"No, I used to be scared."

"And now you're scary," Kurumi said.

Ken hung his head, but she reached out to brush his bangs aside and catch his eye.

"That's all right, you know," Kurumi told him. "You're only scary at the right time. I was afraid at first that you would hurt me, but you didn't. Not even with that look on your face. Not even when it was feeling good."

"I'm still a monster," Ken said. "We all are. All of Kryptonbrand."

"But I already knew that," Kurumi said. "I knew that right from the start. But now all the monsters are out in the open. What scare me most are the monsters that hide."

Ken said nothing. He thumbed at the edge of his glass, making the crystal ring.

"My friends aren't as sophisticated as yours," Kurumi said, smiling gently, "but one was a real trouble maker and often pulled pranks around the school. Did I ever tell you about her?"

"Too late for scary stories?" Ken said wryly. "No, you never mentioned her."

"Well, you're the one who doesn't like to sleep after talking about scary things," Kurumi said. "I'm only doing my part." And she launched into an anecdote about her first day of high school and the girl with water filled condom balloons.

It wasn't what Ken had expected of her and he was certain that it was a part of Kurumi's life that Mihirogi knew nothing about. It was as if coming clean as a monster gave him the right to privileged information. The stories were hardly racy – well, no racier than other high school stories he had heard – but they were definitely entertaining and they made him laugh, which was something he needed more than alcohol.

When he finally fell asleep, sprawled fully-clothed upon his bed, Kurumi folded the blankets over him, collected the glasses, and shut the door behind her. 

–End–

(August 2007)


End file.
